


Around You

by basedfran



Series: Kiddie Squad [6]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Songfic, nonbinary fuuta, sort of it just takes the mood of the song, trans boy fran
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 19:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20019616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedfran/pseuds/basedfran
Summary: Some cats are standoffish and hard to get. Some cats forcibly domesticate themselves and give you credit for it.





	Around You

**Author's Note:**

> notes: 
> 
> \- fuuta is referred to in the fics pov using they/them pronouns and he/him when spoken about by other characters. they accept both sets of pronouns as well as she/her, but this fic is set before they realized theyre nonbinary. just a clarification to avoid confusion  
> \- one line break = a quick passage of time (up to a few hours)  
> \- two line breaks = a large passage of time (days to weeks)
> 
> [general plot idea came from this](https://basedfran.tumblr.com/post/171761791326/radioactivemongoose-cat-comics-2)

It’s a hot summer morning. Sweat is rolling down their neck as their skin fries against the heated slabs of concrete making up the walkway leading up to their front door, their faded shortalls not providing the coverage their legs need to escape the stone’s blistering touch as they spread out in front of them. Their skin boils in the layer of sweat coating them, but they do their best to ignore how oppressive the heat is.

The pages of the book they’re reading (a paperback copy of  _ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix _ borrowed from the library) wrinkle a little as they get wet from the sweat soaking their palms and fingertips. The can of Yeo’s soy milk they’re drinking is sweating alongside them, perspiration beading down the side of the can as the contents cook in the sun.

As they lift the can to their lips, a lithe figure eclipses the sun, partially shielding them from its rays. It’s a relief, but only for a second. Only until they realize who’s standing before them.

“Your knees are scabbing up nicely.” Fran says, squatting down over their calves to pay special attention to the wounds decorating Fuuta’s knees. His eyes seem to glow as he stares down at the scabs. His tiny hands hover just above them, fingers wriggling, itching to peel them off. “Lemme pick ‘em for you. They look tasty.”

They wrinkle their nose at him and pull their legs away, tucking them under their body. They feel the front step they’ve been leaning on dig into their back as they scoot away from Fran.

Though they’ve known for a while that Fran is gross and has a deep love for all things disgusting, they simply can’t get used to all the weird things he says and does.

“Why are  _ you _ here?” they ask, covering their knees with their open book. “Even if I was going to school this week, it’s Sunday. I shouldn’t have to deal with you until the weekend’s over.”

“Rude. I came all the way over here just to play with you, and this is how you treat me?” Fran meets Fuuta’s eye and shoves a finger up his nose, lazily digging for gold in his right nostril. Fuuta shivers as they suppress a disgusted squeal lodged in their throat. “If this is how you treat all your friends I’m not surprised you don’t have any.”

Fuuta sputters and huffs and puffs, cheeks flushing as they scramble for a comeback and Fran watches them, looking only half-interested. They want to kick out at him, but alas, children of the Ranking Star are raised as pacifists. They can’t do harm to any living thing, even if the creature is as annoying as Fran. Even at their wit’s end, they try to practice restraint.

This has been going on for a week now, starting from since Fuuta decided to take a break from school. Fran comes over every day just to pester them, but their brain and mouth still aren’t as quick as Fran’s are and Fuuta always ends up embarrassed one way or another. Finally, they manage to blurt out, “I have friends! Lambo and I-Pin are just taking a nap!”

“The babies can’t be your friends.” Fran says immediately, pulling his finger out his nose before rolling his boogers into a squishy, green ball and flicking it into the grass. “They’re too young, so they don’t count. Bianchi doesn’t count either because she’s old.”

“They count!” Fuuta shouts, but they’re not too sure now. Friends are usually peers aren’t they? People around the same age? The kids are four years younger than them, and the age gap between them and Bianchi is even bigger. Are they friends or are they just friendly siblings? Is there really a difference?

A tiny hand finds its way onto their shoulder, its warmth bleeding through their shirt to melt into their skin. Their breathing stills, as it always does when he gets a little too close. Fran looks into their eyes as he squeezes their shoulder, a rare show of comfort that isn’t too effective. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll take one for the team and be your friend, even though you’re so cold to me.”

Fuuta’s nose wrinkles once again as their lip curls. “You’re just saying all of this because  _ you _ don’t have any friends. If you’re bored, go find someone else to bother.” They slap his hand away, the action  _ just _ gentle enough not to catch the Ranking Star’s eye. “And don’t touch me with your booger hands.”

They snap their book shut and stand, dusting off the microscopic bits of gravel that cling to the back of their legs. They tuck their book under their arm as they march around Fran, heading towards the front gate.

They shove the gate open, flinching a little as the heated metal bites at their palm, and gets halfway out the gate when they notice a piercing green gaze directed towards them.

Across the street, under their front-door-neighbor’s window, a tabby sits hunched in the dirt between two shrubs full of wilting, pink camellias. Its hair stands on end as its sunken gaze digs into Fuuta’s skin, its tail slowly straightening up to a point. It begins to vibrate, a low rumbling collecting in its throat as it glares at Fuuta, preparing to launch itself at them and claw their eyes out.

Then the neighbor’s door opens.

The cat is all soft purrs and heart eyes as it trots through the bushes over to Old Man Sawamura’s side. It rubs its skeletal body up against his khakis, leaving dirty brown streaks on the pressed fabric. It meows as sweetly as it can (the sound like a frog’s croak) as Sawamura sputters and waves his cane at it (never getting even close to hurting the creature), face burning bright red as he screeches at it. “Off you dumb, dirty cat! Get! I told you! I’ve got nothing for you!”

“So, where are we going?”

They tear their gaze away from the scene unfolding across the street to look back and see Fran right behind them, drinking the can of soymilk they abandoned on the front step.

“ _ I’m _ going to the library. You can go  _ anywhere else _ .”

“You know you’d miss me if I wasn’t here. I’m too cute not to miss.” Fran drawls, letting out a soy milk scented burp and reaching down into his overalls to scratch his stomach.

Fuuta can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or if he’s just completely oblivious. They figure they can roll their eyes either way. “The day I miss you is the day it’ll literally rain cats and dogs.” they say, before hurrying down the sidewalk, their footfalls thudding in a nice fast paced rhythm.

“Knowing the world we live in,” Fran says, stuffing the empty can of soy milk into his pocket before trotting after them. “Do you really think that’ll never happen?”

* * *

* * *

“Ah, so you  _ are _ here.”

Fuuta looks up from the copy of  _ A Study in Scarlet _ they have in their hands just as Fran slides into the seat in front of them for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few weeks. They stifle a groan, and try to focus their attention back on their reading, though their eyes keep drifting towards Fran and the plastic wrapped, cherry lollipop he’s trying to open. It figures that he’d pick now, when Fuuta is at the book’s climax, to be a distraction.

“Bianchi told me you would be here, though I should’ve been able to figure that out myself. You never go anywhere else.” Fran says. He pulls at the clear plastic sealing in his treat, but can’t seem to rip it off. The sound of crinkling plastic echoes through the library’s silent walls. Though Fran seems unfazed, Fuuta can feel the judgmental eyes of the other library visitors on them.

“ _ Give me that! _ ” they hiss, careful to keep their voice down. Ears burning bright red, they snatch the treat from Fran’s hands. They rip the wrapping off with one smooth tug and stuff it in their pants pocket before offering the lollipop back to Fran.

Fran blinks at the candy before biting down on it, beginning to chew on it even though it’s still in Fuuta’s hand.

“I wasn’t  _ feeding _ you!” Fuuta squeals, quickly releasing the sucker and shaking out their hand as if it’s contaminated. Their cheeks burn red as their ears and the room starts to feel a little stuffy. Their hand twitches, tempted to  _ at least _ flick Fran’s nose, but that’s too obviously violent, so they tuck the thought away and pick their book back up.

“If you’re going to be here at least pretend to read something. I’d like to finish this book in peace before you wreck the rest of my day.” they say, flipping back to the page they left off on and pointedly  _ not _ looking at Fran.

Fran wrenches his sucker out of his mouth with an audible, wet  _ Pop! _ to speak. “I can’t read.”

Fuuta has never paid much attention to Fran’s face before, but in this moment, they can’t help but stare. “You  _ what _ ?” they ask, looking around as if the library police are going to show up and arrest Fran for illiteracy. “What do you mean you can’t  _ read _ ?”

“I don’t think there’s any other way I could mean it. I’m from France. Master only taught me how to  _ speak  _ Japanese.”

“But-But you go to school here! We’re in the same class!”

“Doesn’t mean I understand anything on the board. Why do you think I never read aloud when the teacher calls on me?”

Fuuta blinks owlishly at the boy across from them. They’ve been around the world and met countless people, some sharing their love of books and some not having the same passion, but they always felt it was a shame when people didn’t have a choice and simply  _ couldn’t  _ read. Not knowing how to read wasn’t the end of the world, of course, but they love the activity so much they’d like everyone to have a chance at loving it too.

They can remember many times where they’ve taught people they met on their travels (children and adults alike) the basics, and they’re getting the itch to do the same with Fran but...

Do they  _ really _ want to spend that much unnecessary time with Fran?

Fran, noticing how long they’ve been staring, decides to pop his lollipop back in his mouth and shrugs. “It’s not like I’ve never read before. I read a lot in France, I just can’t here.”

Fran is an extraordinarily competent illusionist,  _ especially _ for his age. He is a candidate for a position as a leading officer in Varia. He is swift, decisive, and has keen senses allowing him to run circles around the Kokuyo Gang and Varia (a feat impressive enough even if said groups weren’t acting at their full power).

And yet, even he is taken aback by how fast Fuuta rounds the table and rips him out his seat.

They drag him out the fiction section and pull him towards the children’s section, placing the books they had onto a reshelving cart as they pass by.

They lead Fran to the little reading area and toss him onto one of the oversized bean bags populating it before rushing off towards the shelves.

Fran barely has time to reposition himself in his seat before they come running back, a stack of books in their arms.

“How can he just take you from France and not teach you how to read?” Fuuta mutters as they throw themself down beside him on the bag, their elbow accidentally ramming into Fran’s ribcage. It doesn’t matter, though. Fran can’t feel it and doesn’t shy away from the contact.

They peel the first book off the top of the stack they lugged over. It’s a paperback copy of  _ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland _ , obviously in Japanese. The cover is a soft pink decorated with four pictures of the book’s famous White Rabbit in different poses.

Cute and whimsical and definitely not a book Fuuta would pick for themself, but they figure Fran might like it if he hasn’t read it already. Whenever Fran isn’t pestering them, he’s off in his own little world, eyes glazed over and staring off into space.

“You’ve been living here for months, so you must know the alphabet and how to read  _ a little _ .” Fuuta says, as Fran is supposedly a genius and should learn at least a bit faster than others. “So I’m going to read the page and then we’ll go over the characters for any words you don’t know.”

“Okay.” Fran replies, since it’s clear that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. He shifts on the beanbag so he can see the book as Fuuta flips it open.

Their voice is smooth and soft as they speak, taking on the tone they use when they read to Lambo and I-Pin. Fran slumps his body against theirs and, for once, their skin doesn’t crawl from contact. “ _ Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do... _ ”

* * *

Old Man Sawamura is sitting on his stoop across the street when they reach the Sawadas’ front gate, Fran following Fuuta home yet again.

He’s more hunched than usual, leaning his arms against his knees. A small, covered pot sits beside him, a metal spoon held loosely in his hands. His gaze is drawn by something sitting at his feet.

Craning their neck to peek into his yard as they unlatch their own gate, Fuuta can see the skeletal tabby that lives in Sawamura’s camellias demolishing a bowl of what looks like shredded chicken. It practically inhales the meat, clearing the bowl in record time. Then, when its bowl is empty, it starts rubbing its dirty body all over Sawamura’s pants, and this time Sawamura allows it.

Fuuta notices the tabby has a bit of a limp.

Its left hind leg is lifted up as it wobbles about, cuddling against Sawamura’s calves and mewing up at him.

Sawamura glares at them when he catches them staring. “And what are you gawking at, brat? Were you the one to give this cat a limp? She wasn’t like this this morning.”

Anxiety nests in their stomach as Fuuta’s reply gets caught in their throat. They didn’t do it, obviously, but simply being accused terrifies them.

Thankfully, Fran’s there (and always willing) to talk back for them. “If anyone should be a suspect, it’s you, you old shit. I’ve seen you waving your cane at her before.”

“Then you’ve seen that I’ve never actually hit her with it.” Sawamura snaps, brandishing his spoon as if it’s a means of defense against the verbal knives Fran’s slinging at him. “And what about you, you foul mouthed little runt? How do I know  _ you _ didn’t do this to her?”

“I like cats. If I was gonna do something nasty to anyone a certain crotchety old bag would be higher on the list than her.”

“ _ You little brat! _ ” Sawamura hauls himself up and immediately pulls a muscle in his back. A strangled groan rips out of his throat as he hunches over, rubbing the sore spot in his back. The cat meows up at him with concern before turning to glare daggers at Fran and Fuuta. “Ugh, just you wait! I’m going to be speaking with your parents.”

“Good luck trying to find them.” Fran says, before unlatching the gate and pulling Fuuta in. “What’s that old guy’s deal? He didn’t even like the cat this morning.”

Fuuta looks at Fran as he sticks his tongue out and makes rude faces at Sawamura, the cat hissing in the man’s defense as he’s too occupied with straightening himself out to keep yelling. “Maybe,” they say, “he’s noticed some hidden charm it has.”

“Hah?” Fran turns mid-face, his pinkies shoved up his nostrils to pull them out and up as his tongue waggles. “That dirty little thing has charm?”

“ _ Deep _ down, it does. Maybe.” They push his hands away from his face before looking at the stacks of books sitting in the crook of their arm. They hand the books over to him and start walking towards the front door, pulling their keys out of their pocket. “C’mon, let’s finish another book before you go home. I want you literate by the end of the month.”

“Okay.” Fran says before trailing after them, for the first time with permission.

**Author's Note:**

> if youre reading this, thank you for reading the first chapter of this fic. ive been writing it on and off for a year now through writers block and a bunch of different life changes. kinda pathetic that it took me a year to write just 2k+ words but lol what can you say? this is essentially a gift fic/fic inspired by the person who got me into khr and is supposed to convey how their friendship feels to me, so i think its fair that it took a while to get the general feeling down lol! this wasnt supposed to end up as a chaptered fic but i guess things happen. id love to see any comments or thoughts about this first chapter, so feel free to share any thoughts in the comments or anonymously through my tumblr inbox (basedkhr is the user). otherwise, thanks for reading, see you whenever chapter two comes out :)


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